


Valens

by Trista_zevkia



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-13
Updated: 2011-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-26 23:47:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>Beta:</b><a href="http://leandralocke.livejournal.com/">http://leandralocke.livejournal.com/</a><br/><b>Notes</b> Lady_kymoon, I hope I filled your prompt well. I planned on confusion and smut and instead produced a history lesson.<br/>Notes and Translations at the end.</p></blockquote>





	1. An Explanation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:**<http://leandralocke.livejournal.com/>  
>  **Notes** Lady_kymoon, I hope I filled your prompt well. I planned on confusion and smut and instead produced a history lesson.  
>  Notes and Translations at the end.

The shiny green box was very much the worse for wear, having passed through countless spaceports to reach the Enterprise. Kirk saw it when he reached for his own boxes and wondered about who would have bothered with such ostentatious packaging. Well, he was the Captain, even if he’d only held the position seven months.

“Crewman A’paga, what’s in the shiny green box?” Tom A’paga knew exactly which one he was referring to and didn’t even have to look.

“It’s entered as non-foodstuffs, non-living and not breakable, and it’s for Commander Spock. That’s all I can tell you, except we’re all dying to know too. If he opens it in front of us, I’ll let you know, otherwise Captain…” A’paga’s unfinished sentence came with a shrug, so Kirk smiled at him.

“If I see him open it, I’ll let you know.” Jim took his own packages and left, wondering about the Christmas gift from his Mother. It was a month and half late; would she have to mail it a month and a half before Christmas for it to get here on time next year? The smaller box was a bunch of different styles of socks, hopefully he’d be able to find one pair to make these boots fit right.

_J <3S _

“Mom said she mailed it in mid October this time, so I have no idea how it showed up at the same time as it did last year.” Jim was smiling as he waited for Tom to pull out his overdue gift. Tom turned with a box in his hand and behind him Jim saw the gleam of overlapping pastel circles shining on the outside of a box. “What is that?”

“It’s Commander Spock’s. Non-living, non-perishable foodstuffs, which covers a great deal of things, let me tell you.”

“Strange. He got one about this time last year, shiny green on the outside of the box. It’s not his birthday, nor do I imagine Vulcans doing something as illogical as wrapping gifts, so what’s in it?”

“I wish I knew, Sir.”

“You know, as the captain, I can be trusted to take it to him.”

“Regulations say you have to have a justifiable reason and fill out a bunch of paperwork before you can take anybody else’s personal mail. Privacy laws, Captain.”

“True enough, and wise of you to remind me of that.” Jim grinned at Tom, letting him know he wasn’t mad about the reminder. When he was distracted by his relief, Jim toggled the wall comm. beside Tom. “Kirk to Spock.”

“Spock here, Sir.”

“Please come to cargo bay 1.”

“Is there a situation, Captain?”

“I’ll explain when you get here. Kirk out.” Tom was trying not to look impressed, so Jim felt he had to say something. “One of the many benefits of getting shot at, people come when you call.”

Tom almost succeeded in hiding his amusement, so Jim told him a story he had to laugh at. A compelling story in which the names were changed to protect the guilty, but short enough that Tom was almost done laughing when Spock entered the cargo bay.

“Captain.”

“Spock, you got a package.”

“I am aware of that Sir, having received the notification message. I planned on retrieving it after shift change.”

“Well, it’s an unusual box and it made me curious. Vulcan gift wrap?” Jim tried to sound innocent and only idly curious as Tom passed the box to Spock. He didn’t think Spock believed it, as the man was almost a friend now. It had been a long haul to establish a working relationship, but it was getting better every day.

“Similar, if I understand the term you are using.” Spock only gave the tag a glance before folding his arms around the box to address his Captain. “The heavy duty construction of the boxes allows for them to be reused for a number of years before being recycled. The patterns assist in determining the age of the box, as well as revealing the contents to be a gift.”

“What kind of a gift, since you’ve told me Vulcan’s don’t celebrate birthdays?” Jim decided Spock knew full well what he was curious about, which was why he was so thoroughly answering only the question asked. A direct, impolite question would seem to be Kirk’s only recourse here.

“A personal gift that I will open at the appropriate time, after my shift officially ends, Captain.” A nod of the head and Spock turned to leave, Jim and Tom watching as he walked away. When Jim turned to Tom, he could see the newly promoted Supply Sergeant was embarrassed for him and Jim almost laughed at that.

“That’s an official Vulcan ‘none of your business, Terran’ kiss-off. It’s okay to laugh when it’s not directed at you, Tom.”

“I’ll take your word for it, sir, even as I try to make sure one’s never directed at me.”

“Good plan, Tom. See you soon.” With his box in front of him, Jim headed for his quarters. He wanted to open his present now, while in the down time at a space station. Spock couldn’t do so, but it was Spock’s own fault for assigning himself extra duty during Ensign Withers recovery from the latest round of ‘space flu.’ Very few of the other supervisors would have done so, but that simple act of consideration was part of what made Spock so endearing at the oddest times. Almost friends wasn’t good enough, Jim decided. He’d make sure even Spock considered them friends before this time next year.

_J <3S _

February 12th, according to the old Earth calendar and Jim was aware of an arbitrary deadline coming up. Tomorrow was the day he’d promised himself he’d get Spock to admit they were friends. Right now, he didn’t know how he was going to do it, and he also knew it wasn’t all he wanted. This year had been eventful, including a Spock who smashed a monitor and smiled like a loon at a living Jim. Getting back to normal after that had been a struggle, not helped by Jim’s dreams of Spock on top of him in a bed of soft sand. It had been a rather sexual moment, by Kirk’s reckoning, once he took the near death experience out of things.

A soft ping at his elbow called for his attention, so Kirk reached over to open the message. An official note saying all supplies had been beamed up and accounted for, followed shortly by another note saying he had two packages. Similar soft beeps could be heard dancing around the bridge, alerting the crew to their mail in alphabetical order. At the beep from Spock’s station, Kirk turned to observe the man. He frowned down at the message in the way he had of frowning without really showing what emotion evoked the frown. More a frown of concentration than emotion, perhaps? Jim wandered over, out of boredom if his body posture was to be believed.

“Some problem, commander?”

“No Sir.”

“Really? You looked distracted by something.”

“I received an unexpected package and was considering the timing of its origin.”

“So you wanted to know when it was mailed. What’d you discover?”

“It was mailed before our last trip to Vulcan.” Spock had seemed hesitant to answer, and now Kirk knew why. A package, most likely from Vulcan, mailed before the Pon Farr debacle. He knew he shouldn’t pry, but he wanted to know more about Spock. Kirk watched as Spock deleted the message and turned back to whatever busy work he found to do while they were restocking at a space station like this.

“Commander, we need to go over the personal evaluations for this term.” It was true but the kind of boring bureaucratic nonsense that Jim avoided like the plague. Spock knew this and gave his Captain a speculative eyebrow. Jim tried for innocence, but the other eyebrow moved, showing he knew Jim too well to fall for that. Jim didn’t move, and Spock didn’t have a good reason to refuse, so he saved his work and stood.

“Very good Captain, where would you like to work?”

“Right, we have to do these somewhere private. We’ll figure it out when we get there.” Jim shrugged and turned, knowing Spock would follow him to the turbolift. Spock went everywhere with him, often keeping him from getting killed and now Jim felt bereft when Spock wasn’t nearby. The doors closed behind them, and Jim sent them toward cargo bay 1. “Might as well pick up our stuff before we hunker down to work on those evals.”

“Hunker, Captain?” The definition and entomology of hunker, as well as colloquial uses kept them occupied until they reached Tom and the mail counter in Cargo Bay 1. Tom grinned at Kirk, digging out his two boxes and setting them next to Spock’s. The third box had to be Spock’s, as it was once again the strange combinations of decorative and hardwearing. 

This time the silver box was overlaid in a pattern of spiky flowers without stems, in green and copper ink. Jim gave Tom a wink; to let him know what followed was an effort to find out what was in these infuriating packages. Jim liked Tom, but the man didn’t need to know Jim was trying to figure out more than fancy boxes.

“Say Spock, what are those things on the outside of your box?” Jim knew better than to play innocent and went with curious, as that was an aspect of himself Spock would know to be truthful. He got even more curious when Spock turned a little green, like a slight blush. Could Vulcan’s even blush or was that too emotional a reaction for them?

“It is an ancient Vulcan design, predating the time of Surak.” Jim waited, but Spock seemed to have finished.

“Interesting, but what does this ancient design represent?” If Vulcans were allowed to roll their eyes, Spock would have done so now, Jim was sure of it.

“It is the origin of the symbol you are familiar with as the I.D.I.C.”

“Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combination, that triangular pin with the circle on it that you wear to formal occasions?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Does somebody think you’re not diverse enough?” Jim knew he sounded ignorant, but he was honestly confused as to why Vulcans would decorate boxes.

“Captain, perhaps we could continue with the crew evaluations?”

“Right. Tom, I hear you’re up for Supply Chief. Do you think you’d do a good job?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“I’ll put in a good word with the first officer then. See you later.” Kirk turned and left the cargo bay, Spock just behind him. “There you go, crew evaluated and I’m recommending Tom for promotion.”

“Captain, there are 289 crew members who require properly filed evaluations.” Spock’s emotionless voice managed to chide Kirk for putting off this task. Kirk grinned and got on the turbolift, knowing he wasn’t above a little blackmail.

“Spock, I’ll make you a deal. You explain the package to me, and we’ll spend two hours on paperwork.”

“There is no actual paper involved and I see no need to acquiesce to extortion to get this task done.”

“You’re right, it’s much better to put this off until the night before it’s due. As long as we don’t have an emergency, we can sit up all night and do them.” This was said in a reasonable, even happy tone, but both men knew it for the threat it was as the turbolift came to a stop. If Spock allowed himself to feel hate, he would have despised procrastinating. Pulling an ‘all nighter’ just before something was due was detrimental to the results, something Spock had often told Jim. Spock tried to hide a sigh in the noise of the opening lift doors.

“If we complete the evaluations in the next two days, I will explain it all to you.”

“Sounds like a challenge. What are the odds?”

“Factoring in your human need for eight hours of sleep, time for meals and the likelihood that an emergency situation will require your presence on the bridge, each evaluation will have to be completed in 11.6 minutes.”

“Drop your box off and come to my quarters, you’ve got a bet, Mister!” Jim could have whistled as he went into his own quarters. He knew what he wanted to do with his crew, it was just a matter of getting it down on paper. Spock was unlikely to sabotage his efforts, but Jim would watch him anyway, just in case. Vulcans might not lie, but they could be sneaky when logic dictated.

_J <3S _

With a flourish, Jim tapped the send button. Spock’s eyebrow quirked at this, but he didn’t say anything. A second of silence passed before Jim’s alarm beeped at them, confirming he’d beaten the deadline. He shut it off and stared at Spock, waiting for the other man to speak. It went against his active nature, but Jim could wait him out if he needed to. His foot was bouncing for its own pleasure, not an internal need to be doing something. Spock swallowed but spoke with his emotionless mask in place.

“Captain Kirk, I wish for your presence in my humble home at 1700 tonight. Together, I believe we may honor and remember those who seek and those who found.” Jim blinked in confusion. The formal words almost made sense, but words like ‘wish’ and ‘believe’ didn’t seem very unemotional and Vulcan-like to Jim. He hated it, but Jim fell back onto his diplomatic training.

“I would be delighted, Commander Spock. Should I bring or wear anything special to honor this occasion with you?”

“What you find comfortable for seeking.” Not particularly helpful Jim thought, but Spock was standing. In the formal atmosphere, he had to stand too and escort Spock out. Spock paused at the door to speak. “Dream well, to aid in your search.”

Jim wasn’t sure how to respond to that, since he was sure he’d heard that Vulcan’s didn’t dream. While he thought about it, Spock slipped out into the corridor. Jim went back to his computer to do a quick search before going to bed. When his alarm chimed to tell him to get up for the day, several hours later, Jim looked away from his screen without a single clue to show for his effort. They were still in range of the Starbase and unlikely to encounter trouble, so Kirk mentally rearranged his day. He could do more research while on the bridge, and then return to his quarters for a nap before getting his explanation from Spock. He just wished he knew what to expect.

_J <3S _

When the alarm woke him from his nap, Jim was glad he had set the thing. Shutting it off, he went into the bathroom. A water shower, instead of sonic, woke him up so he could complete the rest of his toiletries quickly. With a towel wrapped around him, Jim went to stand in front of his wardrobe. One of the few joys of wearing a uniform every day, was that you didn’t have to worry about what to wear. Spock’s words had been formal, so he could wear his dress uniform. Except the gift box had looked festive and his dress uniform was uncomfortable.

Flipping through his civilian clothes, Jim grinned at the green shirt he found in the bottom. He’d had it almost two years but never worn it and forgotten why. The emerald green material was a lightweight, silky thing, given shape by black edging. When Jim had seen it in the store, it’d made him think of Spock, green skin and black hair, soft under those sharp angles. Jim slid into it and a pair of uniform black pants but balked at putting the boots back on. In his closet was a long neglected pair of black sandals, which made a nice change after spending so much time in his boots. The bottle of champagne had been icing since he returned to the room, so Jim picked up the whole bucket and left for Spock’s quarters.

It wasn’t a long walk, being next door, and Jim had standing permission to simply enter. But tonight was different, so he pressed the chime and waited. Instead of a call for admittance, the door opened to show a very handsome Spock. The green tunic he wore hung down to his thighs, but shifted colors as light played on it. Spock had on grey pants and was barefoot, so very different than he’d been on the bridge earlier that Jim felt his mouth fall open a little. Jim was so startled; he almost missed Spock blinking at his own attire. Spock stepped back and bowed Jim into his quarters.

“Putesha ahmau dorli afer-to dorli psthan.” Jim didn’t know the Vulcan words, so he stepped passed Spock and bowed back.

“Thank you for your hospitality this night.”

Jim watched Spock straighten and lead the way over to his table. A cloth covered the table and whatever was on it, and Jim was unsure as to where to sit. Spock held a chair out to Jim and saved him from having to decide. Handing over the bucket and sitting down, Jim suppressed the laugh that bubbled up. Spock simply didn’t know that was something a gentleman might do for a woman he was trying to impress.

Spock walked over to his firepot, so Jim looked at the room instead of this informal version of Spock. The room temperature and gravity had been lowered to Earth standard, so Jim knew Spock was attempting to make him comfortable. Some other effort was involved as the four petal flower had been made from colored paper and affixed to the walls. Pictures of fierce looking silver birds were also stuck on the walls and ceiling, being stared at by a very confused human. What had he invited himself into? Spock stood before him, holding out the box that had started all this.

“Petakov, will you open the ta’an?” Jim still didn’t know the words, but he could figure out the meaning. Grinning, he reached out and pulled the lid off the box. This allowed chemical preservatives to escape, misting out of the box. Spock set the box on the table, on the one spot without a lump under the cloth, and took the lid from Jim. Even not knowing what to expect, Jim was still surprised by Spock sitting on the floor in front of him. Flipping the lid over, Spock set it aside to reach for Jim’s right foot. Jim tried to figure out a polite question even as Spock began to speak.

“When the Sehlat sang is a phrase much like the human ‘once upon a time.’ A time that never existed, or happened before history books could record it properly. What I speak of, what we celebrate tonight, is one such time.” 

Jim was distracted from Spock's words as Spock began rubbing oil over his right foot. That rubbing soon turned into a massaging that made Jim think his feet might be erogenous zones after all.

“Before the reformation of Surak, Vulcan was a wild place, full of passion. One such passion was love. Humans and some religions have sought to suppress love, confusing it with lust. We reveled in it, looking for it to the exclusion of all else. This day was set aside to celebrate those who had found love.”

Spock set Jim's right heel on the lid of the box, which had padding for this purpose, and took the shoe off the left. Jim closed his eyes and tried not to drool at this treatment of his feet and the massage of his ears with Spock’s voice.

“Those who still sought love soon began to use this day to congregate, hoping to meet their T’hy’la. Surak felt emotion had its uses, but we should control it. After his assassination, this day was outlawed by extremist movements. Children were betrothed for a logical propagation of the species, and love was relegated to the history books.”

Spock set the left foot next to the right, but paused to look up at Jim’s whine of protest. “Sorry Spock, that foot massage just felt really good.”

“It is supposed to, besides which the oil has antiseptic properties.”

“You think my feet are nasty?”

“No, it is tradition to minister to a guest’s feet this way. Water is scarce and this oil cleaned and sanitized, so it was preferred.”

“Logical.”

“Practical, Jim.”

“Do I oil yours?”

“No, I am the host, I do all the work.”

“I like that.” Jim gave Spock a smile, letting him know he’d help if Spock wanted him to.

Spock stood and wiped his hands on a towel that had been on his chair. He set the box on his chair, then pulled the cloth off the table to show the covered dishes below. The sheet disappeared while Jim was looking at the table. Spock pulled four large candles out of the box and lit them with the lighter on the table. A command to the computer lowered the lighting, giving everything a glow Jim tried not to think of as romantic. Sitting down at last Spock returned to his lesson plan.

_J <3S _


	2. A Chance

“Vulcan is hot, so all of the most refined dishes are served cold. Today, they are served to show that any expense is worthwhile to honor a fellow seeker.” He didn’t look offended at Jim’s laugh, so Jim let it grow. When he could speak, he gestured to the iced champagne he’d brought.

“So that ice bucket’s worth a lot, huh?”

“Had you presented it to my parents, it would be the equivalent of asking my hand in marriage.” Jim wasn’t sure if Spock was joking, but he laughed anyway.

“Can you imagine Sarek’s face?”

“Rather clearly, Jim.” The chagrin and amusement in Spock’s voice, undetectable by the rest of the universe, made Jim laugh again. When he calmed down enough, Jim gestured to the table.

“Any rules of etiquette I should know?”

“The guest eats first, unless you believe it to be poisoned.”

“You’d tell me before you attempted to poison me.” Jim chased the grin off his face as he put a spoon in the soup. Something like a cold clam chowder, but clearly without the clams. Not too bad and he watched Spock start to eat before going for another mouthful.

“If I did poison you on this day, it would not be to kill you.”

Jim’s mouth was full, so he couldn’t ask what other reasons Spock had to poison someone. 

Spock pressed on with his history lesson. There was a strange determination to him, as if Spock really needed Jim to understand the lesson he was offering tonight. “If a person is murdered on this day of love, the murderer is taken into the family of the deceased. Then the rest of his life is spent attempting to replace what he took from them.”

“Strange custom. Wouldn’t the family just kill the murder so as to not have to put up with him?”

“There were instances of that, yes. There were also occasions where a person could do more good for the family than the person he killed, so their death was for the good of all.”

“That’s harsh! Um, by that I mean logical.”

“It is both, Jim, and this custom predates the time of logic. An elder, already close to death, might chose this course to bring a strong warrior into the clan. Most often, when a bonded person found a T’hy’la, this custom would allow them to be together.”

“Sounds logical already, so how did the reformation change it?” Jim asked before starting in on what seemed to be a cold, vegetarian omelet.

“Logic dictated that seeking a T’hy’la was counterproductive to a meaningful and successful life.”

“So you bond kids at seven and wait for their poorly understood biology to compel them to procreate? I fail to see the logic in that, Spock.”

“A fair point, but also a discussion for another time.”

Spock was still very formal in his speech and mannerisms, but Jim saw this statement as proof that Spock had an agenda. He wasn’t the type to keep an informal conversation limited, and enjoyed keeping up with Jim’s random changes in topics.

“Vulcans pretended to stop seeking, but they did not. This day evolved yet again, as participants now met in secret. Blood was shed, as people who celebrated this day could be summarily executed. Jim, are you well?”

Jim held up a hand to prevent Spock from standing, even as he willed his blush away. “Nothing physical Spock, I just remembered why I’d never worn this shirt before. Can’t believe I forgot, really.”

“Jim, human blood is red, but to humans the color is also indicative of passion.”

Jim blinked at Spock a few times, wondering how Spock had read his mind without touching him. He could remember it all now, how he’d bought the shirt on shore leave. It wasn’t two weeks later that he got to see Spock’s blood, oozing around human fingers that tried to stop it. A primitive spear had ripped a chunk of flesh from Spock’s left thigh, and Kirk had been worried about a fellow officer. 

By the time Jim had the chance to wear civilian clothes again; he’d learned that Spock had jumped in front of that native to protect him. Risked dying to save a captain who couldn’t stand him outside of official duties. Jim shook his head to clear away the memories and forced his mouth to grin at Spock.

“So are you saying green is a sexy color for Vulcans? Instead of a red-light district, you have a green-light district?” Spock looked tempted to follow the side road of arguing over that comment, but pushed for his original themes. Jim finished off the omelet to pick at the salad. Not Iceberg lettuce, but still a boring salad he wasn’t interested in. He only hoped Spock didn’t notice he was only picking at it to be polite.

“Having to hide these encounters caused many things to be lost. No one knows why the silver birds were believed to cause love between people, but they are still named Love Arrows.”

“Sounds less sappy in Vulcan, right?”

“Of course. Would you care to open the beverage you brought for an accompaniment to dessert?” At Jim’s nod, Spock’s long arm pulled the champagne closer. He watched Jim work the foil off and stopper out, but continued speaking. “An interesting development of the secretive nature of these encounters was the boxes you are so curious about. An entire celebration could be packaged into these boxes, with room for gifts or culinary interesting items.”

“I won’t hold it against you if you say junk food.” Jim didn’t look up from pouring the champagne to make his joke.

“More in keeping with candy, I believe. Vulcan did not have sugar cane or honey, so our sweets are not as sweet as you are used to. I ask only that you try one of these.”

Now Jim raised a questioning eyebrow at Spock. When had he ever backed down from a new experience? Closing his eyes and opening his mouth, Jim waited to be fed. It wasn’t until the softness touched his tongue that Jim considered how sexual feeding your partner could be. On Earth, not where Spock was raised, Jim reminded himself. The treat was melting in Jim’s mouth, so he considered the flavor. Not particularly sweet, but strangely refreshing. After a long day in the desert with little water, this would be a slice of heaven. Searching his memory, Jim found a taste to compare it to.

“Peppermint patties, without the chocolate coating.”

“Interesting. I shall have to try that sweet at a later time. These treats are expensive, as the flower only blooms during the winter months and gathering them can be dangerous.”

“Two problems with that statement, care to guess what they are?” Jim asked as he reached to refill his glass.

“Vulcan does experience winter months in the proper climes, but even our coldest day would still cause you to sweat. I suppose problem two is the reference to the danger of gathering flowers?” At Jim’s vigorous nod, Spock continued. “These are the flowers of a large, carnivorous plant that has defied efforts at cultivation. Some consider the plant to be evolving into an animal-like intelligence, as it responds to stimuli at a much faster rate than comparable plants on other planets.”

Jim couldn’t help but grin at the scientist in Spock distracting him from his topic. It was probably the grin that brought Spock back to the issue at hand. “Would you care for another svai D’mallu?”

“As long as you don’t lose a limb getting it for me.”

“The probability is slim, as they are in the gift box.”

“The famous ‘Vulcan secret party in a box,’ box?” Jim asked as seriously as he could, even as Spock set a small container of white flower petals between them.

“Yes. The box that holds candles, svai D’mallu, and sundry foodstuffs and oils. Three years ago, T’Pring sent a green box that included this outfit, to be worn only on this day of admitted passion. Last year, it was a large box of cakes of the same size and color as the circles on the outside of the box. The ancient design on the box for this year indicates a surprise gift, instead of the expected ones from the previous years. I intended to send the box back to her, as our association is at an end, but your curiosity infected me.”

Jim forgot his question about ‘sundry oils’ at the emotions slowly leaking into Spock’s voice. Was he still bothered by T’Pring’s refusal? 

“Infected is not what I meant to say. Pardon me while I consider how to explain.”

Jim knew full well the only time Spock needed time to think was when it came to emotions. It was a rare occurrence even then, but Jim sat back and waited. Jim reviewed what Spock had said so far, trying to decide where this was going.

He had several questions, but a small voice in the back of his mind shoved those questions out of the way. Spock never mentioned the sexes involved. He could assume that Jim would know he talked of male and female couples, but Spock was usually more precise than that. If Spock was propositioning him, the ball of lust that filled Jim let him know what his answer would be.

Jim’s inner Spock voice tried to be reasonable, explain that he was seeing what he wanted to see. Which informed him what he wanted to see, solidifying the ‘something more’ he wanted from Spock. Spock’s voice brought him out of the floating feeling that came with this understanding.

“You saw my distress and came to me, as you always do. Vulcans would leave me with my emotionalism, humans would leave me with my logic. I cannot classify you, Jim, so I always find you intriguing. I could have avoided your blackmail or sabotaged your efforts to finish the crew evaluations. I could have simply explained or wrote you an essay on the box. Instead I put you through this, because I wanted this day to be what it was meant to be, for once in my life.”

“You never told me exactly what day this was, other than a celebration of love beyond lust.” Jim leaned forward and hid his hands under the table. He’d need some way to express his emotions without scaring Spock away, even if it was to dig his fingernails into his palms with fear.

“Putesha ahmau dorli afer-to dorli psthan. It is a day of putesha, reverence and ahmau, honoring, dorli, those who psthan, quest and afer-to, found. Originally a day to celebrate the bond between two people, those who have found that joy. It changed as needed, becoming a day for those who were looking for that link to find each other. After the reformation, we included remembering those who died rather than allow that joy, hope and love to die. Four I.D.I.C. symbol triangles, points together. The circle linking them together is the thing we all seek and honor, the bond of the T’hy’la.”

“T’hy’la.” Jim pretended he was trying to word out on his tongue, but his every sense was focused on Spock’s reaction. The way Spock closed his eyes and swallowed before he could reply made Jim slide to the edge of his seat in anticipation.

“I knew you were important to me before my Pon Farr. I was incapable of telling you as much and hoped bonding to T’Pring would remove my emotional reliance on you.”

“Did what actually happened alter your opinion of me?”

“She made no difference. I attempted to use the pain of killing you as a shield, protecting me from my other emotions. I was unsuccessful.” Spock paused to drink down his full glass of champagne, though it seemed to have little effect. “At this opportune time, I need to ask you if the possibility exists that you might come to think of me as more than a fellow officer.”

“Spock?”

“Yes, Jim?”

“Put the ice in your box and mail it to your father.”

“Jim?” Spock might have planned more words in that question, but saying the name had summoned Jim into his lap. He got to see a look of delight and wonder on Jim’s face, before the man leaned in to kiss him. Spock was distracted by how such loving softness could simultaneously be so needful and demanding, until a flick of Jim’s tongue made him forget to analyze this. Spock opened his mouth to Jim’s tongue, which was no longer a simple muscle. The way Jim used it, the tongue was a living entity, telling Spock that paradise was his for the taking.

Warmth radiated out of every spot where Spock touched Jim, leaving the rest of Jim pleading for a touch. He wanted out of his clothes, he wanted Vulcan passion to infuse him and he wanted to show Spock how passionate James Kirk could be. As much as he wanted all this, Jim found he couldn’t pull away from the kiss until he absolutely had to or risk passing out from lack of oxygen. Jim didn’t remember running his hands through Spock’s hair, but he must have done so. The Spock he leaned back from the kiss to view had a green flush, messy hair, and blown pupils, giving him a debauched look.

“Male/male relationships? Isn’t that illogical?”

“It’s love, Jim. It’s very illogical.”

“It’s okay, you can call me T’hy’la.”

The words were almost a coy joke, but Spock loved the idea. A hand knocked things off the table so Spock could lift Jim to sit on the edge. Four hands reached down to undo Jim’s pants, bumping into each other. Jim had a sudden mental image of Spock’s parents touching only the first two fingers of their right hands.

He froze, wondering if that simple gesture would be appropriate, until Spock freed his erection. Then there were no thoughts, only the need to memorize the sight of Spock, intelligent, beautiful, dignified Spock taking him in his mouth. With a stranger, Jim would have been embarrassed about how quickly he came, but not with Spock. When he could breathe again, Jim grinned at Spock.

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, we can spend the rest of the night showing you just how special you are.”

“I do not take your meaning.” Debauched Spock was trying to be More-than-human Spock, but the difficulty was as obvious as the anatomy tenting the pants and long tunic he wore.

“Yes you do. Pardon me while I consider how to explain.” The pause wasn’t to find the words, but for Jim to reach down for his best impersonation Spock. The deep, velvet voice was easier to get than the emotionless face, but Spock’s eyebrows would let Jim know if the message sunk in. “I need to ask you if the possibility exists that you might come to think of me as more than a fellow officer.”

Both eyebrows tried for the hairline that Jim had so enjoyed messing up. With an apologetic look, Jim continued in his own voice. “I’m only sorry that you had to ask. I should have just told you when that I thought we were friends, when I first started thinking of you that way. Wouldn’t let myself think of you as more than that, which was really hard after Vulcan. Just so you know, if Bones’ meds hadn’t lowered my blood pressure, you would have had noticeable proof of my interests.”

“Jim, there are other considerations we must discuss.”

“We will, I promise. But not until after you’ve made me so sore I won’t be able to sit down tomorrow, and I do the same to you.” Jim felt his own cock start hardening at the lust and promise in his voice. Spock swallowed before he replied, speaking as he reached up to take off Jim’s shirt.

“My Vulcan physiology would make such a result problematic.”

“Is that a challenge? You know I love challenges, almost as much as I love you.”

Jim was trying for playful and lusty, so he was as surprised as Spock by the need to be believed in his voice. Suddenly unsure of what to do next, Jim did the only thing he could think of. Holding the first two fingers of his right hand out to Spock, Jim waited. The slight tremor in Spock’s hand as he reciprocated was endearing. At the contact, Jim felt a light brush against his awareness, a reassuring touch of minds that made Jim sure, confident and overwhelmingly loved.

Leaning down, he started kissing Spock’s hand. Spock moaned when he licked it, so Jim used his teeth on the area between thumb and finger. Just that, and Spock was darkening his trousers with a startled look plastered on his face. Jim grinned in a very self satisfied way while Spock recovered.

“This is going to be all over the ship next year.”

“You intend to tell the whole ship?” The tinge of panic in Spock’s voice show he wasn’t fully recovered yet, and made Jim so satisfied he could have purred. He was even tempted to prolong Spock’s misery, but decided it was a bad way to start out on this path.

“Not us, this day. I can’t believe humans never had a day to celebrate love before, and I’m going to fix that. Next year, every corridor on the ship will be lined with Love Dart birds and I.D.I.C. flowers.”

“Jim, I’m not sure if I have conveyed how important this day is. It is the closest thing Vulcan’s have to a sacred day.”

“We’ll make some changes, so they’ll never know.” A wave of his hand and Jim stood to remove his pants.

“They are Vulcans, Jim, they will know, and they will trace it back to this ship, and me.” Spock was also removing his clothes, following a naked Jim to the bed.

“We’ll make it so soppy and romantic; they won’t even look at the details. Earth might never have set aside a day for celebration, but we still have plenty of sap to go around.” Rolling onto the bed, Jim maneuvered into as wanton a pose as possible for Spock.

Naked, Spock didn’t have a chance to hide his growing appreciation. Instead he stopped to look down at Jim and savored the moment. Jim kept talking, wanting to fill all of Spock’s senses.

“Cupid was an ancient Roman character who shot people with love arrows. Red is passion, we have candies, perfumes, massage oils. And chocolate has chemicals that the human brain equates to being in love.”

“Is that why it is so popular among humans?” Speaking diverted Spock’s attention and he moved to lay down and face Jim.

“Partly, and partly because it’s so good.”

“I shall also have to try that sweet, at another time.” Spock added the qualifier because Jim chose that moment start feather like touches to Spock’s cock.

“You’ve never had chocolate?”

“No. It was only purchased by my parents to celebrate this day, and I was not allowed any.”

“You’ll be a connoisseur by Valens Day.”

“Valens Day?” Spock’s words were quite clear, despite the way he was nibbling on Jim’s earlobe.

“Rough draft title, thinking of Roman cupids gave me the idea. It’s Latin for the worthy and strong. Everyone’s worthy of love, and nothing makes you stronger than love.” 

Spock leaned back to blink before cupping Jim’s face in his hand. “It’s almost as beautiful as you, my love.”

“You’ll be my Valens forever, won’t you, T'hy'la?”

“Infinitely.” 

As a thank you, Jim leaned in to kiss Spock until they were both completely hard, and ready for the start of a great adventure.

_Fin_

Is There No Truth in Beauty is the episode with the I.D.I.C.

 

valens worthy, strong, powerful  
psthan quest  
putesha reverence  
Afer-to found  
eifa those  
dorli honor  
ahmau remember  
ta’an gift  
Petakov love, darling  
Sehlat fanged teddy bear  
svai petel  
D’mallu carnivorous plant on Vulcan  
All thanks to Vulcan Language Institute!


End file.
